


The Healer

by Iorhael



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-29
Updated: 2011-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:12:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iorhael/pseuds/Iorhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared sees him every day standing in his shop. Jared doesn’t know his name but there is something about him. He always wears a hat that changes every day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Healer

Every morning Jared gets off his bus at the corner of Mott St. and Canal St. in Chinatown and walks to his office, a small construction company, squeezed between a lucrative Chinese restaurant and a bargain clothing shop. And every morning he sees him standing in this little shop.

The place has wide windows with brightly colored curtains drawn back and secured on their sides. On the glass panels are glittering paper markers of the sun, the moon, and the stars. Across one of the panels _The Healer_ is painted in eye-catching red lettering. Often Jared finds himself wondering who the man really is. A healer – is he some kind of a medicine man or a psychic, dealing with mental or physical problems? But it doesn’t matter, really, because Jared doesn’t feel like he’s in need of the man’s services, whatever they may be.

Still, Jared is intrigued by that man who never seems to step beyond the threshold of his shop. The man always wears a different kind of hat every day. Today he has on his head a round red, black and golden Mandarin hat which contrasted sharply with his pale face and jade-green eyes. The hats make him look dashing, whether he sports a brimless, rounded cap like some African men wear, an _ushanka_ , a fur hat with ear flaps from Russia, or a beret.

Jared raises his hand tentatively and waves. The man catches sight of him and smiles, waving back, and Jared feels his insides quiver. The guy looks absolutely beautiful and his smile makes him look even more stunning. Jared swallows and beckons. To his dismay, the man shakes his head, still smiling. Jared sighs, checks his watch, and shrugs.

 _I have to go_ , he mouths and the man nods, still smiling. Great. So, strange hats, gorgeous eyes, tempting smiles, shy. And mute.

But mute or not he has captured Jared’s heart, especially when he appears the next morning sporting a round, brown-colored, thick-furred hat which sits high on his forehead. Jared almost drops his hot coffee as he looks out of the bus window.

He can’t keep his eyes off him, so much so that he slips on the steps as he comes down from the bus and lands on the hot asphalt. He hears a loud crack coming from his left ankle at the same time he feels a sharp pain skating up his leg to his brain and Jared cries out in agony.

Dazedly, he sees panic flit across the man’s face. He looks agitated, keeps stepping out and then back inside the shop. Amidst his muddled thoughts, Jared wonders why he doesn’t just come to him. A couple of strangers come to help Jared, lifting him off the road and supporting him by the arms, they help him walk toward the shop.

“Get him inside. Watch it. Be careful.” Jared hears and sees the healer gesturing to his rescuers to bring him in. The sprained ankle hurts like a motherfucker and Jared can’t bring himself to care about anything else at the moment.

“Put him on the couch. Yeah, right there.” Jared grunts when his leg catches an arm of the chair. “I said be careful!” the man snaps. Jared cringes but somehow feels inexplicably warm at the sharp tone.

The voice softens, though, when it's directed at him. So soft that it barely register with him at first. Jared blames the clouds of pain he's still swimming in.

"Huh?" he asks when the man addresses him again.

"I said please hang on. We're going to take your shoe off. It might hurt a bit. Your ankle is swelling."

Sure, go ahead. How would you check the ankle if it's still trapped in the shoe?

But no one moves. Jared frowns as he meets those green eyes.

"We won't start until you give your consent," the man says patiently. "None of us wants to be sued."

"Oh, yes of course. Go ahead." Obviously he was talking to himself just now. One of the men touches his sneaker and Jared gasps, pulling his leg back.a little.

"That's alright, we'll be careful," the man says. Jared finds it strange that he seems to avoid touching Jared, keeping a constant distance. "Okay. Now can someone please take off his sock?" he asks one of the men. He scrutinizes Jared's leg. Jared struggles to raise himself on his elbow to see how bad the swelling is. What he sees makes his head spin. It's double the size of his fist.

The man laughs, to his surprise. "It's not that bad."

"Can you just do something about it?" He grits his teeth. "Before it blows apart?" The man walks away. "Hey, where you going?"

Someone hisses. "Ssh. He's going to get you something for your ankle."

Jared wonders what kind of stuff the man might be giving him. He doesn't have to wait long. The man is soon back with a bowl in his hands that is filled with something, and the aroma of ginger fills the air, along with another sharp, pungent smell which Jared can't identify. The men around him withdraw, giving Jared and the healer more room. Or perhaps they just can't stand the smell.

"Uuh," Jared mumbles, pulling back without realizing he’s doing it, but strangely he can feel himself calming down when the man smiles soothingly at him.

"It's okay. It's not gonna hurt."

With a wooden spoon, the man mixes the concoction in the bowl. After a few minutes, he spoons a small amount of the mixture onto a small square sheet of grease paper, picks it up and carefully smears the concoction on Jared's swollen ankle. Again he seems careful not to touch Jared directly.

Jared can't hold back a moan as his skin reacts to the first touch of the mixture. It's hot but not searing, and it feels good on his throbbing ankle. After a moment, it feels as if a set of gentle fingers were massaging his ankle, the comforting warmth spreading up his leg, and soon it reaches up to his groin. Before he can stop it, Jared lets out a sound he only makes when he's pressed down by a hard muscled body or when he's deep inside a tight sucking hole.

The silence is deafening when he open his eyes. Throats are cleared and he can feel his face burning, can feel it turning crimson. Jesus, what has he done? And what is this sticky sensation he has in his pants?

“I, uhh, umm…”

The man treating him can’t meet his eyes. “It’s done.”

Jared looks down at his ankle and he is right. It’s been wrapped neatly in a bandage, its warmth seeping into Jared’s pores threatening to make him moan in pleasure again.

“Umm, thanks? What is it?”

“Oh, just some ginger, shallot, and cajuput oil.” The man absently answers Jared as he waves and sends the other men away. “Thank you, guys. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Jensen.” One of them winks at him, nodding toward Jared and he feels like shaking the man so hard.

“Jensen?”

“Yes?” Jensen replies as he walks on taking away the bowl.

“What are you, really?” Jared asks when Jensen returns with a tray bearing an earthen pot and two small cups. He puts them on the table in front of the couch where Jared’s lying.

Jensen smiles. “And why is that important? You’ve just been hurt. Drink this chamomile tea. It will make you relax. You should rest for awhile.”

That reminds Jared. He still has to go to the office. He scrambles up. “I have to go.” But Jensen pushes a cup of steaming tea into his hand.

“Not before you drink this. Come on. We haven’t even introduced ourselves properly and you’re leaving already?”

“God, sure.” Cautiously he receives the cup and takes a sip. Its heat runs down his throat easing up the tension he feels in his muscles. He gradually feels sleepy until all he wants to do is curl up and close his eyes.

“Go ahead and sleep.” Jensen’s voice sounds far away. Jared blinks sleepily as Jensen's face starts to blur away.

  
~~~

  
The sky's turned a deep indigo blue when Jared finally wakes up. He's never felt this good and refreshed waking up in his whole life. Jared yawns and stretches, fingers tightening at the edge of a thick woolen blanket. Jensen must have spread it over him when he was lost to the world. He swings his legs off the couch and gingerly steps on the floor. The pain has reduced considerably to mere throbs and he no longer feels like crying out in pain.

Jared looks around the room he's in. He can't see the richly decorated windows so he must be in the inner part of the shop. He sees a desk and a chair, a couch and a couple of armchairs and a table, and walls lined with tall metal shelves. It could be any office room Jared's seen if not for the jars arranged on the shelves that seem to contain the internal organs of animals that Jared can't identify. Jared's breath hitches. He can only pray that they aren't from humans and Jensen doesn't turn out to be a warlock who kills people to get power from their body parts.

Moving slowly toward the door, Jared hears conversation coming from the other side of it. He finds Jensen standing behind the counter chatting with a man whom he assumes is a customer. The customer is an Indian man and Jensen still looks and sounds like a normal, good looking guy, nothing like the blood-thirsty savage Jared's been imagining him to be. Jensen turns to him and smiles.

"Hey. Feeling better?"

Jared freezes. He remembers coming apart right under this man's nose and feels he has to do something to conceal his embarrassment. He charges forward.

"You kidnapped me, and drugged me," he starts when he feels a sudden pain flaring up from his ankle, his injured bones grinding against each other under the stress he just gave them.

"Hey, you alright?" Jensen is next to him propping him up. The Indian man stands stock still staring at him. Jared sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm himself, fighting the darkness threatening to engulf him.

"Huh, yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine." He knows he should pull away but he finds he can't. Jensen feels so good to lean against. His body is muscled and warm and Jared just wants to snuggle into him.

"Where's your hat?"

"What?" Jared can hear the laughter in Jensen's voice. He shuts his eyes in embarassment. His mind is still too muddled for him to think clearly.

"Your tea. It put me to sleep."

Jensen laughs openly and Jared loves the sound.

"It didn't, buddy. You needed it. The rest. The tea just helped make sure you got it."

"Mr. Ackles is right. He's always right. He always knows what you need." Jared's startled at the strong Indian accent.

Jensen is still holding him up when he seems to realize what he's done and the next second he pushes Jared hastily away.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry." He looks flustered, not meeting Jared's eyes. He rubs his hands on the apron he's wearing. "You shouldn't go home alone like that. Rajit will take you. He has a cab. He's a good driver."

"Mr. Ackles?"

"Rajit, please." He gazes pleadingly at the Indian man who mumbles his consent. Who wouldn't, Jared thinks. Who can say no to those eyes?

Jensen wraps some seeds in a sheet of used newspaper and hands it to Rajit. "He just fell and hurt his ankle, Rajit," Jensen says in his soft, lyrical voice. "He won't be able to climb in and out of the buses. Look at him. He can't even stand straight." He smiles at Jared, who can do nothing but smile back, already forgetting he was upset with Jensen just now.

"I'll pay you, don't worry." Jared assures Rajit.

Rajit looks at him. "Sure," he replies, nodding. He gives Jensen a wad of money and Jensen says, "Everything will run very well for you. I'll look out for any signs otherwise."

"Thank you, Mr. Ackles. Thank you." He beckons Jared to follow him.

"I have to pay for..." Jared starts.

"You don't have to pay for anything," Jensen cuts sharply. "It's not your fault you had an accident."

"But you've done so much for me."

Jensen's headshake indicates it's final. Jared sighs.

"Okay but I owe you and I'll do something to pay for it."

"Go. I'm sure your wife and kids are waiting for you."

Is it just Jared's imagination or is there challenge, and hope, in Jensen's eyes? Jensen must have seen there's no ring on his finger. Their eyes meet.

He's already outside the door before he realizes that he hasn't answered Jensen's unvoiced question. Or given Jensen his name.

  
~~~

It's not time to close up the shop yet but Jensen feels drained already. He flips the sign to _Closed_ , hooks the latch, shuts the blinds, and switches off the light in the shop. He slips into his office, a place that usually can offer him sanctuary but not tonight when the scent of that man still lingers. Early this afternoon he thought he'd been saved from any further 'disaster.' Nothing had yet to happen. He'd avoided any skin to skin contact though he couldn't help but feel as though his heart would leap out of his chest every time the man so much as glanced at him.

Looking isn't forbidden though. But looking leads to wanting to touch, and that's when his problem starts. He can't deny his own heart. He loved the sensation of the man flush against him and he yearns for that now. His body craves the touch. The man has such strong hands when he clung to him. Jensen had wanted to more than support him. He wanted - still wants - to hold on to him, touch him, stroke that soft hair, kiss him...

But Jensen doesn't forget. He can't. What he is is instilled in him. He's made his choice, but this contact, this desire? He gazes at the rows of jars on the shelves which, in his current state of turmoil, seem to be mocking at him - partly seducing and partly reprimanding. He just needs to reach out and ask for their help, then step out of his shop to seek after the guy, and his life will be turned upside down.

The sudden, loud ring of the phone breaks him out of his reverie and Jensen answers it.

"Good evening, shop of the healer. May I be of your service?"

There's a chuckle and Jensen immediately knows it's him.

"Uh, is this Jensen? Jensen Ackles?"

"Speaking."

"I'm Jared. Jared Pada-"

"Jared?" Jensen holds his breath.

"The sprained ankle."

"I know."

"You do?"

"I - I remember your voice." And your smell and your touch...

"I'm glad to hear that." Now Jared is laughing and his voice is throaty when he speaks again. "I can't stop thinking about you. Can I take you to lunch somewhere tomorrow?"

Jensen hesitates and there's a long pause. He knows what his answer should be but he has a hard time suppressing the turmoil in his belly.

"Jensen?"

But this is only lunch, Jensen tells himself. Hardly equivalent to _Will you marry me?_

"I don't think I can."

"You too busy? You still have to eat, don't you?"

"I do." Jensen sighs. "Tell you what. Why don't you just come over tomorrow?"

"No problem. My office is nearby."

Relief washes over Jensen. "That's good. So I'll... see you tomorrow?"

"Jensen?"

"W-what," Jensen answers quietly, wiping his suddenly damp hand on his pants.

“I just, I want to see you again. So much. Can we just meet now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jared. Your leg’s still hurt.”

“But I really want to see you,” he says, a pleading tone in his voice and Jensen feels his lips twitch. This man is insane.

Jensen closes his eyes, making up his mind. His fingers creep up to a jade pendant hanging from a length of a fine silver chain around his neck. “You can see me now. Can you close your eyes?”

“Do I have to?”

"Just close your eyes, Jared."

“How am I supposed to see you with my eyes closed?”

“I’m sending my spirit and yours to your favorite place. What’s your favorite place?”

"Spirits?" Jensen can hear the anxiety in Jared's voice.

"Do you trust me?"

"I do. With all my heart."

"Now just tell me, what’s your favorite place?”

"My bedroom."

Jensen breaks out laughing, shaking his head.

“Hey, you asked.”

“Alright, alright. Now, have you closed your eyes?”

Jensen doesn’t get to hear Jared’s answer. What he hears instead is a sound of a loud thud like someone’s falling from the chair.

“Jared, you okay?”

“Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

  
~~~

  
When Jared steps into Jensen's shop, he is welcomed by the sight of Jensen wearing a traditional Asian pointy farmer's hat. Jared laughs, amused, as he imagines how Jensen would turn red under the sun working the field even with the hat on. And he might feel too hot so that he'd decide to go shirtless - and Jared stops himself from daydreaming more. He doesn't need to have a repeat performance of last night's experience when Jensen's - _apparition?_ \- had suddenly turned up in his bedroom in all his naked glory.

Jensen's conversation with a Hispanic lady filters through his smitten mind.

"I hope this can help Mr. Pedroza. A little turmeric and dried lemongrass. This onyx will keep him home." He slips the small pouch to the skinny, lanky woman who is in desperate need of fashion consultation judging from the faded green duster she is wearing.

"And how about Jose?"

Jared flicks a glance at a boy who's as skinny as his mother, dressed in a too thick hoodie, standing rigidly by the door.

"He's fifteen but he doesn't have a friend, doesn't do so well at school, and doesn't even want to try," she wails.

Jared feels Jensen's eyes on him and he smiles and shrugs.

"Jose knows he can do any of those things. He just needs some support." Jensen looks around and nods toward a jar on the shelf near Jared. "Can you please... Yes, that's it." Jared hands him a big jar with some roots in it. Jensen cuts a generous amount of it and grates it. "Take a pinch of this ginseng and smear it on his forehead between his eyebrows every night before he sleeps. It will trap and capture his slipping confidence. Come back to me after a week and tell me how it goes."

Jared's jaw slackens. He doesn't believe in this kind of mumbo jumbo but Jensen does. Jared is now more curious than anything else.

The woman nods at him and grabs the boy's arm before scurrying out of the door. Jared takes a deep breath, taking in all the mixture of the scents of spices, relieved finally there's no one else besides them.

"Hi," he greets Jensen, feeling suddenly shy as the most provocative image of Jensen from last night comes flooding back in.

Jensen looks like he's embarassed, too, completely different from the confident man he is when he's with his customers. He's mumbling something now to Jared and Jared strains to hear him.

"What is it?"

“I’m sorry,” Jensen repeats.

“What for?”

“Last night. It was – so not me to act like that usually.”

Jared frowns. “No, don’t feel sorry. It was all right." His voice turns down one octave. “I think I'm falling in love with you.” He moves toward Jensen, reaching to touch his face.

“You don’t know me.” Jensen jerks back. “And don’t touch me.”

The memory of Jensen flinching back from his hold returns to Jared. “Why? Why can’t I touch you?"

“Because…” Jensen sweeps his gaze around. “Because this is what I chose.”

Jared inches forward. “What’s that mean?”

Jensen raises his hand, palm facing Jared. “Stop. Please.”

“I want to know. Jensen, I also want to know what last night means. Will you tell me?”

Jared can see when Jensen yields. The man motions toward his office. “Let’s go to my office. Have you had lunch? I have chicken kung pao.”

“Yeah, I’m hungry.”

Together they walk to the back of the shop with Jensen keeping a good distance away from Jared, his face looking troubled.

  
~~~

  
 _Nobody wants to be a freak. They say it's good to talk to your plants but it's another thing altogether when those plants begin to talk back to you - telling you what to do or not to do. That's just weird. And if those plants, the spices, and all the gemstones begin to converse with you? During the day, at night, when you are alone or when someone is sitting with you while you eat lunch? How strange is that?_

  
~~~

  
"You mean you're hearing them? Right now?"

"Yes, Jared," Jensen snaps. "But please, don't interrupt."

Jared raises his hands.

Jensen resumes his story haltingly.

  
~~~

  
 _His ability had started when he was very young, four or five years old. It helped augment his family's financial status as his father was only a ranch hand for a middle-class family. Life had been good for him then. His patients paid him enough, and his parents and everyone in neighborhood was protective of him._

 _But all that ended when a new family bought the ranch after its old owner admitted bankruptcy. That night a group of men broke into his house and dragged Jensen and his family out of their beds. They were tied up and Jensen was bombarded with questions. He was only six and terrified out of his mind. He called out to his mom but his wailing was muffled by a dirty scarf tied over his mouth. He tried to look away but the leader grabbed his chin and forced Jensen to look at him. The man shouted out one word over and over until eventually Jensen got it. Oil. There was oil under the land and they wanted him to tell them where to find it._

  
~~~

  
"Oil?" Jared interrupts again. "But all they needed to do was have some research done into the mineral composition to the place, right?"

"How would I know? Perhaps they didn't want the expense of doing all that. I couldn't have known what they thought. I was only a kid and I was scared to death."

Jared tries to calm himself. The story disturbs him in all kinds of levels and he's torn between wanting to know what happened and dreading how much worse it would be. In the end his curiosity prevails. "Did you tell them?"

  
~~~

  
 _Jensen's eyes met his father's. It was from him Jensen got his ability, something that was passed from generation to generation. His father had always been able to calm him down every time he began to feel overwhelmed. He had also told Jensen that he should give everything from his heart. It was that way or things wouldn't go the way they were supposed to go._

 _And this time, Jensen knew he would not willingly speak._

 _Jensen stared up in a mix of terror and defiance when the leader snatched his gag off and grabbed his jaw, tilting his face up._

 _"Talk, or I'll kill your dad."_

 _Jensen saw one of the men pressing a gun against his father's temple. He started to shake and cry. He couldn't have talked even if he wanted to. This was not right, he knew that._

 _"Kid, I see you don't love your father."_

 _All hell broke loose when the man pulled the trigger. The smell of the gunpowder blended with the scent of blood, curdling the air as Jensen bucked hard and broke his bonds. He leaped from the chair and ran toward his family, heedless of the gun that came swinging from the side and slamming into his head. The last thing he heard before everything went dark was someone shouting, "Take him!"_

  
~~~

  
Jared goes silent, unable to think of what to say to the most horrible thing he's ever heard. He can't think about such a thing happening so close to home.

Jared's still speechless when he notices how Jensen's staring down at his hands, looking so broken and dejected Jared feels like taking him in his arms. "Did they all die?" Jared asks quietly.

"I'm not sure but I heard shots before I passed out."

"My God, Jensen. I'm so sorry." Jared closes his hand upon Jensen, who pulls away, continuing his story in a low voice, his eyes far away.

"I managed to escape from those men, ran to the woods. I followed a stream and at one point, I fell and hurt my head. I didn't remember anything after that and when I woke up I was lying on a hard wooden bed. An aged Indian American man was sitting beside me chanting and puffing smoke from his long pipe in my direction. I could only stare at him, and the clouds of smoke overpowered me and I fell asleep again."

Jensen takes a deep breath. "He knew about me even before I told him. I told him I wanted nothing to do with my ability again but he wouldn't hear any of it. He took me back to the stream and purified me--"

Jared shifts uncomfortably. He didn't really want to know how exactly the man _purified_ Jensen and yet he doesn't want Jensen to stop. Jensen seems oblivious to his discomfort, though, and keeps talking.

"He took me to the forest, made me shut my eyes, and had me listen to the sounds there, and I heard them again, the voices of trees, the leaves, the flowers, even louder than before."

"What did they tell you?"

"Mostly about themselves. They're always talking, you know, but few listen. Even someone like me. Others pretend not to hear and refuse to help keep the balance of nature."

Jared can only stare. It's hard to imagine having this kind of ability but he never doubts Jensen.

"How long did you stay with the Indian man?"

"Long enough. He took me to the reservation and raised me as if I were his own. I went to school at the community college. I even got a job as a librarian."

The semblance of normalcy in the otherwise bizarre life of Jensen gives Jared's mind some reassurance. Not that he cares how weird or freaky Jensen is. The man's stolen his heart and Jared doesn't want it back.

"I had to save money for all this, you know." Jensen gestures around him. "I didn't want to work with someone else my entire life. An American dream in a twisted sort of way." Jensen smiles weakly.

"Twisted? This is not twisted. Your parents will always be proud of you. You survive, that's all that matters. You can carry on with your family's legacy." Jared sees Jensen's eyes sparkle with unshed tears. He doesn't want Jensen to cry. He hates seeing him look so sad. "Hey." Jared pats Jensen's hand. "So, you didn't practice your, uhm, ability for some time?"

Jensen slowly rubs the spot where Jared has touched him. "No. I've had this for only a few years."

"And you chose this city. Good for you." Jared smiles and Jensen smiles back.

"I have to be sure of my choice because it's a once in a lifetime decision."

"What do you mean?"

"Once I'm settled, I'm bound to that place."

"Oh."

"That's what the Indian man told me. There are some conditions."

"What kinds of conditions? What for?"

“For my own safety. As long as I abide by those rules, nothing bad will happen to me or the people I help.”

Jared feels he won’t like those _rules_. Dreading the answers, he asks anyway, “What rules?”

“There are three of them. I’m not supposed to leave my shop, use my gift for my own purpose, and touch or be touched by anyone.”

Silence.

“And in the past days we’ve touched a lot,” Jensen says quietly.

  
~~~

  
Jensen feels like a jerk. He has made it like it had all been Jared’s fault when he himself was to blame, too, for the touching. And it's certainly not Jared's fault that Jensen has sent his spirit to meet Jared.

But Jared doesn't seem to get that when he kicks forward and pushes his chair back, almost sending it sprawling to the floor.

“God, Jensen, I didn’t – why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He looks bewildered and horrified. “What if – what if I should get you killed? Christ.” He rubs his face, looking wildly around him. “I can’t be here anymore, all I want is touch you, hold you.” He sounds desperate. "Jen ... I have to go.” He turns away, shoulders slumped.

 _No. What has he done?_

"Jared?" Jensen jumps up from his chair, running after Jared. “Jared, stop.” “Please don’t go. No, no. Please don’t go!”

But it’s too late. Jared has disappeared.

  
~~~

  
The ringing of the phone startles Jensen. He runs back to the office and snatches the receiver.

"Jared." Jensen gasps.

"This Mr. Ackles? Jensen Ackles?" The voice is female and Jensen feels cold all over.

"Yes, who is it?" His world suddenly darkens when he hears the answer.

"This is Bethesda Hospital. There's been an accident."

Jensen's heart leaps to his throat. "Is he - is he all right?"

"Several cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder, bruises on his face, but the worst is the injury to his head."

 _Bruises on his face?_ Has someone beaten him up?

"Luckily they managed to get him out of the car."

"Uh, what?"

"The car, his cab. It was totaled. But Mr. Rajit is alive. We found your name and number in his wallet, sir."

Jensen sways and he gropes around for purchase.

"Mr. Ackles, you still there?"

"Yes, yes. I'm here. What should I do now?"

"He's going to be operated on and we need his insurance and everything. Are you family, or do you happen to know them?"

Jensen doesn't quite know what to say. He doesn't know Rajit's family as Rajit hardly ever talked about them. Jensen doesn't have any telephone number, house address, or even names. He's the only one who can help Rajit but he's not supposed to venture out of his shop.

"Bethesda Hospital, you said?" Jensen stammers.

"Yes, sir."

Jensen shuts his eyes. He can hardly think but his heart settles it for him. He's broken two rules already, what's the difference with one more?

"Nurse? I'll be there in fifteen."

  
~~~

  
Jared clicks at a design he made earlier and tries to pay attention to the lines, checking if things are set how they should be and looking for each point that might need some improvement. They are all perfect. His work is always flawless. Yet his life's not.

He's still thinking of what had happened. Why hadn't he stayed with Jensen after his story of his childhood? It was unbelievable. Jensen needs him, no, _they need each other_ , especially now that they've done things they were not supposed to do.

Jared snatches at his cell phone. He needs to check if Jensen is all right. One ring, two rings, three, four, and, the connection is cut off because there is no answer. Jared tries again, suppressing the bubble of panic that's starting to surface.

"Come on, come on," he mutters but again, no answer.

He grabs his jacket and limps out to find a cab, his mind in a whirl.

  
~~~

  
Jensen's mind is running in circles, wondering if this is the right thing to do. But his concern for Rajit wins, and he's quickly thinking of the various ways to help the man. He knows the doctors are doing their best to help Rajit and he believes in them, but he also knows that he can do a lot to help lessen the pain, both in mind and body.

Or so he thought. Walking slowly around his room, Jensen lets his gaze sweep over the ingredients in the jars, the red chili peppers piled in a corner, strings of dried cloves on the side of a shelf, but ... nothing. His mind is empty. Not one of those mixtures or concoctions is saying anything to him. And what's worse, his shop is _quiet_. There is none of the usual murmurs or whispers, no hum and no buzz coming from the spices surrounding him. There is only silence.

"Spices?" Jensen whispers, calling. "Why are you so quiet? Talk to me. Tell me what to do." But none answer him. "Spices? Stones? Where are you?" Jensen implores, pleading and begging repeatedly until he's shouting for them to answer him.

But to no avail. Jensen stands still, arms hanging limply by his side. He has lost them, the spices, the gift, everything. It’s the price he must pay. He takes his jacket, contemplates wearing a _kofia_ and deciding against it. He dashes out of his shop.

  
~~~

  
Jared's panic escalates when he finds the shop unlocked and empty.

"Jensen!" he shouts. Only silence answers him. "Damn," he mutters, trying and failing to find any clues where Jensen might be.

The office is still exactly like it was when Jared left it earlier. Grimly, he notices the chicken kung pao still in its box. He runs from room to room, but no Jensen.

He's now inside what must be Jensen's bedroom, which is unlike any bedrooms he's seen. There's no bed, only a mattress laid in one corner, but the place looks cozy with its thick carpet, huge soft pillows arranged in front of an old-fashioned fireplace, a tall shelf in a corner full of bizarre-looking hats. Jared wonders what stories are behind those hats.

He takes another look around the shop, taking more care to detect any sign of breaking and entering but there is none. There is no sign of any violence either. And he doesn't even know whether Jensen has a cell phone or not. Jared curses and closes his eyes in frustration.

"Jensen, where are you?"

  
~~~

  
Jensen's never thought he would ever spend so much time at the hospital. The surgery took almost five hours and Jensen took care of the payment while waiting until Rajit was moved to a ward. There's no insurance but Jensen managed to contact the cab company's labor organization and requested them to come. For the sixth time that day Jensen regrets that he can't do more to help with Rajit's recovery and the thought that he might have lost his ability comes again. Jensen sways,

"Sir, you have to take it easy." A female nurse materializes at his side, seizing his arm. "You look very pale. Are you okay?"

"Yes, sure." Jensen gently tries to pull away, but the nurse is adamant.

"We should check on you if you're sick."

"No, I'm okay, really." He smiles but it might look more like a grimace. "I'm here for a - a patient."

"But you look awful. Have you eaten anything today?"

No, he hasn't eaten anything at all today. Jensen's stomach lurches at the thought of food and he goes cold all over, breaking out in sweat.

"Sweet Mother of Jesus, hold on. Hey, I need some help here!"

Hands are upon him and he is pushed onto a stretcher into the ER. He struggles to get up.

"Okay. I'll eat, okay? There's nothing wrong with me."

Someone who's apparently the doctor in charge, speaks up, "We'll examine you first, make sure that you're all right."

Jensen nods, fighting nausea. "You do it, doc."

He can't escape the examination room fast enough, after the doc pronounces there's nothing wrong with him. Still feeling slightly dizzy, he slips into the cafeteria.

  
~~~

  
Jensen returns home late that night. He frowns to find the door locked and that he can’t find his key anywhere on him. He can't remember locking the door but if he did, he must have his key with him, which he doesn't. Cautiously Jensen knocks at the door and it’s opened at once.

By Jared.

Jensen’s jaw drops in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses, immediately regretting his tone of voice.

Jared's lips tighten. “What are you doing out? I thought you said…”

Jensen brushes Jared aside and walks in.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m out. I broke rules. One more means nothing.”

“Jen…”

“I’m just back from the hospital, okay?”

“What?” Jared grabs him. “Are you all right?”

"Let me go." But Jared doesn't let go of him. "Yes, I'm fine. It was Rajit. His car was totaled."

"Oh my God. How about him?"

"He's going to be fine. I just had to settle some red tape."

"How come they contacted you?"

"Apparently they found my number among his stuff."

"And how about _you_?"

Jensen meets Jared's eyes for the first time that night. "I don't know," he says then. "I mean, here I am a healer and a psychic, but I didn't foresee that accident and - and I could do nothing to help heal him."

"What happened?"

"I can't hear them anymore," Jensen whispers.

Jared looks puzzled. "You can't hear who?"

Jensen scowls angrily. "The spices. The stones. All of them," he cries out. "I broke the rules and now they all left me. I'm useless now, just a piece of worthless scum who killed his family for nothing because he's not strong enough."

"Cut it out."

"Leave me alone, Jared."

"I won't, no way. If someone should be blamed for this, it's me. If I'd never turned up at your door, you wouldn't have had to break the rules and none of this would have happened."

"You didn't know. I'm the one responsible for this." Jensen jerks backward when Jared's hand runs up to the side of his face. "What are you doing?"

He stills when Jared presses against his body. "You can't do this," he says weakly but Jared doesn't seem to hear him as he murmurs wordlessly against his lips, nuzzles his neck, ears, nibbles at his skin, the back of his ears. Jensen throws his head back, moaning helplessly. Jared chuckles.

"I can and I will," he says, and Jensen has no idea what he's talking about.

"I can touch you, Jensen," Jared says. "And I will do it as much as possible just because I can. I'm not going to leave you. You're not a bad person and you deserve to be loved. I'm very sorry for the things you had gone through. From now on you're not going to be alone anymore."

Unaware of what he's doing, Jensen finds himself clinging to Jared, his arms going around Jared's neck, and he starts kissing him all over his face.

"I love you. I've never had anyone like you in my life before. I never knew this feeling. I don't know what I'll do if I lose all of this."

Jensen shivers. "Do you - do you want to come to my bedroom?"

Jared grins. "As a matter of fact I have been there already."

Jensen's eyes widened. "You have?"

"I saw your mattress, the rug, the fireplace, yes. Oh, and also your funny hats."

"They're not funny," says Jensen indignantly. "They are precious and they're all that's left from my previous life."

"You still have that life. Believe me, it's not lost to you yet. But for now-" Jared steals a kiss. "It's time for you to tell me the story of those hats, before I fuck you into the mattress."

"Shut up and take me there already."

  
~~~

  
Jared knows he must look like a hungry wolf staring at its prey. Not a pretty image, but Jensen, spread out naked beneath him, definitely is. And Jared had a special request for this particular _prey_ , for Jensen to don the soft round woolen hat that Jared picked.

"Why this hat," Jensen queried, breaths hitching as Jared gently teases his arousal.

"It makes you look hot." Jared blows on the head of Jensen's cock, eliciting a gasp. Jared uses his tongue now, cleverly, and doesn't stop even after Jensen's quivering with want, a total mess of sweat and pre-come. He's been chanting Jared's name, and Jared watches Jensen with new-found appreciation, a different kind of beauty of a man when he's strung along, denied of orgasms for several times.

Jared is teasing Jensen's hole now and Jensen is shaking and vibrating, fingers clutching the linen sheet as he tries to switch Jared's attention back to his cock. But Jared only chuckles and continues to ravish Jensen's hole which is now dripping with his saliva.

"Yes." Obviously Jensen is confused of the things he wants: to come or to have Jared inside him. But Jared's the one deciding for him right now. He's getting prepared, covering himself with lube because he doesn't want to hurt Jensen.

"Please tell me if it hurts. You've never done this, have you?"

"Shut up and get it in already," Jensen snaps.

And Jared drives home, slowly but surely. "Fuu-uck," Jensen curses and Jared grunts, his sight blackening as his cock is squeezed and milked by Jensen's silky yet firm inner walls. Jared pulls out and pushes back in, harder every time, his grunts harsher and harsher, his fingers marking Jensen's hips. The sight of Jensen's thighs and legs widespread, completely at his mercy is his undoing, and Jared's falling apart.

Jared doesn't even notice it when Jensen's hat slides off his head.

  
~~~

  
Jensen enters the kitchen and blushes as he sees Jared. Jared smiles.

C’mere,” he says and curls his fingers around the back of Jensen's neck, and kisses him wet and full. Jensen moans in his mouth. Jared cards his fingers in Jensen’s hair. “I love you,” he murmurs. “You're so beautiful.”

“Stop it.” Jensen pushes him. “I’m not a girl.”

“You’re more beautiful than a girl. Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m heading to my office. Will you be alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been alright for years by myself.”

“You just had a breakdown and this between us—” Jared gestures at Jensen and himself, “is a new thing for you. You haven’t touched other people for a long time. Are you sure you don’t need me to be around now?"

Jensen looks serious. "You were here with me and I'll have you again tonight."

Jared feels like singing. He wraps Jensen instead in his gigantic hug for Jensen might not appreciate him singing, and kisses him again.

“How about if we go to our place?”

“I’d love that, Padalecki.”

“That’s a date then.”

“By the way…”

“Yes?”

“The Indian man – he gave me a name.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Jared grins as Jensen smiles sheepishly.

“It’s _Dancing Freckles_.”

Jared kisses the tip of Jensen’s nose. “That just fits you.”

  
~~~

  
Jensen looks around his store. All his precious spices and jewels and roots and seeds. How he longs to hear them again. It has only been a day but already he misses them so much.

He's just about to go back to his bedroom when he hears a loud knock and a shout, “Mr. Ackles!” Frowning, Jensen heads for the front door. Never before has he had someone drop by before he puts out the _Open_ sign.

“Can I help you?” Jensen peeks out the door, leaving the chain intact.

“Mr. Ackles, I really need your help.”

Jensen looks at the boy closely, but he doesn't recognize him.

“Do I know you?”

“It’s Jose, Mr. Ackles. Jose Pedroza.”

Jensen's eyes widen. The Jose he knows is reserved, not like this boy who's dressed like a gang member, complete with basketball jersey, a red bandanna tied on his head, and a huge pendant of the letter _J_ hanging on a big chain around his neck.

“Jose, you look… different.” Stating the obvious. Jensen knows he sounds lame.

“I know. I’m…”

But suddenly the door is shoved open forcefully, breaking the chain and pushing Jensen violently backward.

“Hey, dude, I said I’d handle this.”

"You're taking too long.” Four men thrust into the shop, heavy, sturdy men. One of them is carrying a baseball bat.

Jensen glares at them. “Get away from my place. Go or I’ll call the police!” He turns to Jose, fear and dread in the pit of his stomach. “What are you doing? What do you want from me?”

He starts to go toward the telephone but his arms are wrenched from behind and the man with the bat pushes it up under his chin.

“Heard you have gem stones. Where are they?"

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jensen cries out in pain when they yank his arms up.

“We don’t need you, man. We can just trash this place.”

“I swear to you I don’t—” Jensen screams when he hears a crash from behind him. The man before him is not the only one who has a bat. His spices – they’re destroying them.

That's when he hears it, hears _them_. Slow murmurs that get louder and louder. The whispers are back. They are talking to him again. He closes his eyes in deep relief, momentarily forgetting the dire circumstances he's in.

“Hey. Hey!” The man slaps him hard. “Wake up, man. You want us to keep going?”

Jensen can't really hear him above the loud voices of his spices and the man grows angry. He swings his bat and it smashes into Jensen’s stomach. Jensen doubles over, groaning in agony. Another clout to his belly and Jensen crumples to the floor, unable to evade more blows on his back, kidney, and thighs.

“Stop it. Stop. Please.” Jensen’s mind goes to the precious stones in the drawers. They are to help heal people, to guide them in their lives, not as things to be bought and sold. He’s not aware when the man finally stops beating him.

"You're a useless ass," the man hisses in disgust, kicking Jensen one last time before he leaves, followed by the others.

“Fuck,” Jensen curses and begins to crawl toward the cash machine. Every part of his body is sore and he can barely lift himself. He stretches out, reaching up, and pushes the hidden emergency button below the drawer.

He sees the swing of the baseball bat a moment too late.

  
~~~

  
Jared cringes to see the broken jars, upside-dawn drawers and smashed shelves. He steps carefully around the broken glasses to find anything he still can save while the paramedics are taking care of Jensen. He’d arrived earlier than the police who had answered the emergency call from the place. Jared had somehow got the feeling Jensen needed him, as if Jensen had nudged him in his subconscious.

The store was wide open when he arrived. He saw Jensen curled on the floor behind the desk, unconscious. Jared ran to kneel beside him, and was about to call the cops when he heard the sirens wailing outside. Jensen looked awful, his face all swollen and cut up, but Jared didn’t dare move him. When the paramedics came, they pushed Jared aside to attend to Jensen. Shocked, he stared at the cuts and bruises on Jensen's body as the medics cut his clothes open.

“My God,” he whispered. “Is he gonna be okay?”

One of the medics replied without looking up. “We’re doing our best, sir.”

A police officer took him by the shoulder and asked if he could question him. Jared was reluctant to leave Jensen but he knew Jensen was in good hands. He nodded and told the cops all that he knew.

After the police has finished with him, he starts to straighten up the place when he notices a thick hardcover book on the floor under Jensen's desk, its back cover cracked open. Jared picks it up and a piece of folded paper drops from behind the cover. It looks old. Jared opens it, reading what’s written inside. He frowns before a smile slowly tugs at the corners of his lips.

He runs to the ambulance where they’re taking Jensen in and jumps inside.

  
~~~

  
Jensen looks pale and frail lying on the hospital bed, and all Jared wants to do is to wrap him up and take him home. After all they have a date and he doesn't think Jensen's the type to break promises. Some rules, perhaps, and all unintended, but not promises. Jared takes his hand and strokes those fingers gently.

"Wake up, Jen, will you? I have great news and I can't wait to tell you."

As if he heard Jared, Jensen stirs. Jared notices the changes in his breath, and watches Jensen's eyelids lift open.

"Hey," Jared says softly. Jensen looks at him, frowning. He looks confused but doesn't seem to be in pain, probably because the doctors have pumped enough painkillers into his system. It's clear that he doesn't know where he is. The doctors have told Jared the blow to his head has caused concussion.

"Jared, where... What-"

"Ssh. Don't talk too much yet. And don't worry, I'm here."

Jensen swallows and nods slightly. He swallows again.

"You thirsty?"

Jensen's eyes flick to the jug of water sitting on the bedside table. "P-please."

Jared pours some water into a glass, puts a straw in it and brings them to Jensen's mouth. "Drink slowly."

Jensen lifts himself a little and does as Jared asks. He stops when he has enough and sighs as he lies back down. Jared takes his hand again.

“Go on and sleep. You need to rest.”

Jared wants to tell him what he's learned, but he knows it has to wait. He rubs Jensen’s hand gently until eventually Jensen’s eyes drift shut.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Jared murmurs.

  
~~~

  
“Do you know who did this to you?” Jared asks when Jensen’s awake again later on in the evening.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s this kid, Jose. He was a loner when he came the other day with his mother. She asked for him to be more outgoing, you know, have friends and all. But he turned up with all the wrong friends."

"That's hardly your fault, Jensen.”

“Yes, it is. I must’ve given him a wrong concoction, and that’s my punishment for having broken the rules.” Jensen looks so dejected and forlorn and Jared can feel Jensen's despair coming from him in waves when Jared suddenly remembers.

“I’ve something to show…”

“But there’s this thing—”

They speak at the same time and Jensen smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“No, no. Let’s hear from you first.”

Jensen tenses slightly. “This morning, while those men were beating me up, I thought I heard them. They were speaking to me again.”

Jared feels a bit lost. “Who were speaking to you?”

“The spices and the roots. But I don't know ...” Jensen hesitates, looking down at his hand being held in Jared’s.

Jared follows Jensen's eyes and he knows what Jensen means, but he doesn’t remove his hand. Jared smiles as he lifts Jensen’s hand and kisses the knuckles one by one softly.

"My turn now." He hands Jensen the piece of paper he found inside the cover of the book. Jensen takes it, looking at him questioningly. “Read it.”

Without saying anything, Jensen looks down and reads. Creases appear on his forehead before they slowly smooth and his eyebrows arch. “Where did you get this?”

Jared tells him, also the title of the book. Jensen shakes his head. “That’s one of the old man’s collections given to me. It’s a book about traditional cures and medicines. But I never thought…”

"Imagine that, Jensen," Jared says excitedly. "Bad things and wrong remedies will not happen again to you for you’ve found the one for you. The one who will love and care for you as long as you live. The rules don’t apply to you anymore.”

But Jensen is quiet as he looks down at the paper on his lap.

"What's wrong? Jared asks. Jensen doesn't answer and understanding suddenly dawns on Jared as he looks at the expression on Jensen's face. He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “You think I might not be the one? That I might leave you someday?”

“Jared, I don’t…” Jared grabs both of his hands.

"Jen, I can swear to you right now that I’ll love you forever,” Jared says, putting as much conviction as he can in his voice.

"You can't predict the future, Jared."

“Yeah, I know, but don’t you want to give it a try? And give our best effort to make it last?”

Tentatively, Jensen starts to smile, the doubt in his eyes clearing. He clutches Jared’s hands back. “I do. Oh, I really do.”

Jared feels as if a burden has been taken off his shoulders. "Jensen," he says fervently. Leaning forward, he tilts Jensen’s chin up with a finger. Jensen’s eyes flutter shut as Jared closes the gap between them. Jared looks down at Jensen, relishing the breathtaking beauty before his eyes, and finally pressing their lips together, caressing Jensen’s mouth, clinging into it, as if his life depended on it.

  
Fin

**Author's Note:**

> To my betas, mews1945 and layne67, I don’t know how I can thank you enough for helping me again with this piece. Thank you for letting me bother your time again and again and one more time. Thank you, my dears. *kisskisskiss*
> 
> Based on The Mistress of Spices


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